


Season 1, episode 1: Wolf Moon

by disseria



Series: Beacon Chills [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Games, Gen, LARPing, Pre-Slash, Role-Playing Game, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 02:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12201648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disseria/pseuds/disseria
Summary: Scott is recruited into Beacon Chills, the local live action role-play (LARP).





	Season 1, episode 1: Wolf Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf has come to an end, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to let it go. I've had this story simmering inside of me for a couple of years now, and I think now that Teen Wolf is over, I can keep the fire burning by working on this fic. The ultimate goal is to re-write the entire series as if there were no supernatural elements, just this LARP that most of the people in town are playing. It's kind of an insane goal, seeing as how there are 100 episodes of Teen Wolf, so no promises, but we'll see where it goes.
> 
> As much as I loved Teen Wolf, there were some things that I wish had happened differently, and this is my chance to see what might have been. So here it is, the first installment of my gift to the fandom that has meant so much to me these past five years...
> 
> Some helpful terms for the uninitiated:
> 
> LARP - Live Action Role-Play, a form of role-playing game where the participants physically act out their characters' actions.  
> GM - Game Master, a person in charge of running the LARP  
> Hold - this is called out to stop play  
> Mundus - a term for a non-LARP person

Scott tugged on the strings of his lacrosse stick. They felt good. He loved lacrosse. Or, maybe it was the idea of lacrosse. The truth was that he didn’t actually play very much. Any time he exerted himself, his asthma would act up, and he would have to use his inhaler. It was so embarrassing. It was the reason Coach never put him on the field. 

He set the lacrosse stick down and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and imagining himself scoring a goal. This year was going to be different. He was gonna make first line.

A rustle from outside his window caught his attention. Grabbing the baseball bat his mom kept in the hallway, he stepped onto the porch. The full moon was out, but the porch light wasn’t working, so everything around him was hidden by dark shadows. A loose board squeaked beneath his foot. There was nothing out there. Maybe he was just imagining things.

Lowering the bat, he turned to go back inside when a large form dropped from the roof.

Scott screamed, lifting the bat to defend himself. The form, hanging upside down from the eave like some kind of vampire, yelled back. The vampire had a buzz cut. Of course. It was his best friend Stiles.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!” he yelled.

“You weren't answering your phone!” Stiles answered, still hanging upside down. “Why do you have a bat?”

“ I thought you were a predator,” Scott said, annoyed, but as always, amused by his friend’s antics.

“A preda…? What?! Look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. My dad was talking on the phone with another GM earlier tonight, and he just left like 20 minutes ago. He’s been planning this for weeks. I snuck a look at the campaign while he was work, so I know where he’s going.”

Scott sighed. “We're seriously doing this?”

“You're the one who’s always bitching about how nothing ever happens in this town,” Stiles said. “This is literally the only fun thing to do around here.”

“I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow,” Scott argued.

Stiles scoffed. “Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort.”

“No, because I'm playing this year,” Scott said. “In fact, I'm making first line.” 

“Hey, that's the spirit,” Stiles said, trying not to laugh. “Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one. Get in the jeep. We’re going.”

Scott grimaced, but he knew Stiles wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “Fine.”

The jeep’s headlight’s lit up the sign for Beacon Hills Preserve as Stiles pulled into one of the few empty parking spaces in the lot that was oddly full for that time of night. They could see flashlights in the distance. 

“Look!” Stiles said, pointing with glee. “That’s where they are!”

Scott sighed. “Didn’t your dad say you weren’t old enough for this yet?”

“He said when I turned sixteen, he would let me be a part of it,” Stiles said, jumping out of the jeep and closing the door. He turned on his flashlight and started walking into the woods. “I turn sixteen in a few months!”

“If I remember correctly,” Scott said, jogging to catch up with him. “He said when you turn sixteen, he would _think about_ letting you be part of it.”

“Semantics, Scotty,” Stiles said, excitement coloring his voice. He turned off the flashlight. “Okay, keep your voice down so we don’t get caught.” He ran ahead in the dark.

“Stiles!” Scott hissed. “Wait up!”

Despite the darkness, Stiles was moving fast and the distance between them quickly grew. Scott watched helplessly as Stiles tripped and fell, drawing the attention of a large German shepherd being kept on a tight leash by a man in a police uniform. 

“Hold!” the cop said, shining a flashlight in Stiles’ face. “Mundus on the field!”

“Hang on, hang on,” the sheriff said. “This little delinquent belongs to me.”

“Dad, how are you doing?” Stiles said sheepishly.

“So, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?” the sheriff asked.

“No, heh. Not the boring ones,” Stiles answered.

The sheriff glanced around at the dark woods surrounding them. “Now, where's your usual partner in crime?”

“Who, Scott?” Stiles asked, incredulously. “Sc - Scott's home. He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for first day back at school tomorrow. It's just me. In the woods. Alone.”

“Scott, you out there? Scott?” the sheriff yelled. 

Scott hid behind a tree. If his mom found out about this, she was going to be pissed, and whether or not he made first line on the lacrosse team was going to be the least of his concerns. 

Seeing and hearing nothing, the sheriff turned back to his son. “Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car. And you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy.”

Scott watched as the sheriff walked off with Stiles. The others followed, and Scott found himself alone in the forest with no ride back home. Tugging his red hoodie around himself against the cold. He began to walk, but he soon realized he wasn’t alone when a dark figure stepped out from behind a tree.

“I had a feeling Stiles didn’t come out here all by himself,” the man said. “From what the Sheriff tells me, you two are practically joined at the hip.”

“Wh-who are you?” Scott stammered.

The man stepped into a patch of moonlight and held out his hand. “My name is Peter.”

“Peter?” Scott said, squinting in the dim light. He shook Peter’s hand. “Peter Hale? Stiles said you were the GM for the werewolves. You planned this campaign with the Sheriff, didn’t you?”

“Beacon Hills is a small town in the middle of nowhere. Nothing happens here. We have to find ways to keep ourselves occupied.” He smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I have a proposition for you.”

* * *

Scott lurched forward when the car door smacked into his backpack. He looked up from where he was chaining his bike to the bike rack.

“Dude, watch the paint job,” Jackson barked. Jackson was the arrogant captain of the lacrosse team, and would be Scott’s nemesis if Scott wasn’t beneath his notice.

The two boys glared at each other until Jackson’s best friend’s voice drew his attention. 

“Yo, Jackson, let's go, bro!” Danny yelled.

“Hey, what happened to you last night?” Stiles asked.

Scott turned to find Stiles grinning at him.

Stiles gave Scott a once over with his eyes. “You obviously made it home okay.” 

“Yeah,” Scott said. “Peter gave me a ride.”

“What?!” Stiles’ exclaimed. “Peter? Peter Hale?! The werewolf game master? You talked to him?”

“Yeah,” Scott replied, sensing Stiles’ jealousy. “He’s really nice.”

“What?! What did you talk about?” Stiles asked.

Scott shrugged. “Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing?” Stiles pressed. “Did he tell you about the campaign?”

Scott shouldered his backpack. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Oh God, that is freakin' awesome!” Stiles said. He was about to say more when caught sight of a distinctive shade of strawberry blonde hair. “This is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since - Since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey, Lydia - You look - Like you're gonna ignore me.” He turned angrily back to Scott. “You're the cause of this, you know.”

“Uh – huh,” Scott replied.

“Draggin' me down to your nerd depths,” Stiles continued. “I'm a nerd by association. I've been scarlet - nerded by you.”

* * *

Allison glared at the screen on her phone, tucking a lock of long black hair behind her ear. Her mom was calling. Again. She sighed and answered it. “Mom, three calls on my first day is a little overdoing it.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” her mom replied. “Are you sure you have everything you need?”

“Everything except a pen,” Allison answered, digging through her purse in frustration. “Oh, my God, I didn't actually forget a pen. You know what, it doesn’t matter, I’m sure someone will let me borrow one.” She noticed the vice principal approaching. “I gotta go, Mom. Love ya.” She hung up the phone and shoved it into her purse.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” the man said. “So you were saying San Francisco isn't where you grew up?”

“No,” Allison answered, shaking her head, “but we lived there for more than a year, which is unusual in my family.”

“Well, hopefully Beacon Hills will be your last stop for a while,” he replied, before opening the door to the classroom. 

Allison followed him inside.

“Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent,” he announced. “Please do your best to make her feel welcome.”

“Thanks,” Allison said, smiling at him before making her way towards an empty seat.

The teacher stood up, as if on cue. “We'll begin with Kafka's Metamorphosis, on page 133.”

Stiles leaned towards Scott. “Dude! Her last name’s Argent!”

“So?” Scott said, hardly able to tear his gaze away from the beautiful girl who had just entered his life.

“Argent!” Stiles hissed. “That’s the last name the game master my dad said was moving into town!”

“Okay,” Scott said, not hearing a word Stiles said.

* * *

“That jacket is totally killer. Where did you get it?”

Allison turned to find Lydia standing behind her. She smiled. “My mom was a buyer from a boutique back in San Francisco,” she said.

“And, you are my new best friend.” Lydia replied.

Jackson came up behind Lydia and put his arm around her waist. 

“Hey Jackson,” Lydia said, giving him akiss. She turned back to Allison. “So, this week-end, there's a party…”

“A party?” Allison asked.

“Yeah, Friday night,” Jackson replied. “You should come.”

Allison shook her head. “Oh, I can't, it's family night on Friday... But thanks for asking.”

“You sure?” Jackson asked. “Everyone's going after the game.”

“You mean like football?” Allison said.

Jackson rolled his eyes. ”Football is a joke here. The sport is lacrosse. We won the national championship last year.”

Lydia flicked a few stray hairs into place on Jackson’s dark blonde head. “Because of the team captain!”

“We practice in a few minutes,” Jackson continued. “If you don't have anything else to do...”

“Well, I was going to...” Allison began.

Lydia touched Allison’s arm. “Perfect! You’re coming.”

* * *

“So, you’re seriously not gonna tell me what Peter said?” Stiles asked, ducking under a tree branch.

“He said I can’t tell anyone,” Scott replied. “He said it was important for the campaign.”

“So, that means you’re part of it now, right?” Stiles said. “That’s so not fair! We were supposed to do this together! Wait, so does this mean you’ve been recruited by the werewolves? Are you a werewolf now?”

“Look, I can’t talk about it, okay?” Scott said. “Can you just help me find my inhaler? I think it fell out of my pocket last night. My mom’s gonna kill me. Those things are like 80 bucks.”

“What are you doing here? Huh? This is private property.”

They both looked up to see Derek Hale, a senior at Beacon Hills High, staring them down. He was standing with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Stiles recovered from being startled first and cracked a smile. “Oh, hey Derek.”

Derek laughed and walked over to them. “What are you two doing out here?”

“I lost my inhaler last night,” Scott explained. 

“You mean this one?” Derek asked, pulling it out of his pocket.

“Oh my God!” Scott said, grabbing it out of Derek’s hand. “Thank you so much! You’re a life saver!”

Derek gave Scott a knowing look. “Peter said he talked to you last night.”

“Uh, yeah, he did, but…” Scott glanced nervously at Stiles.

“Don’t worry,” Derek said. “He and the sheriff talked today.” He looked at Stiles. “Your dad is gonna talk to you when you get home.”

Stiles’ eyes went wide and he pumped his fists in the air. “It is so happening! I knew it! This is gonna be so awesome!”

Derek smiled. “Don’t get too excited. It might not be what you think.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles asked.

Derek smiled and shook his head. “Just go talk to your dad.”

* * *

Scott heard the front door open from where he was feeding the cats at the vet’s office.

“Hello!” he called out. “Sorry, we’re closed right now!”

He walked out of the cat room and saw Allison standing there, smiling at him.

“Oh, hi,” he said, feeling the heat rising on his cheeks.

“You’re Scott, right?” Allison asked, stepping up to the counter. She leaned forward with her arms on top of it.

“Yeah,” Scott said, coming up to the counter on the other side. “Can I help you with something? The vet’s not in right now; I’m just his assistant. Do you have a sick pet or something?”

Allison shook her head. “Look, I know this is gonna sound kind of weird, but my mom asked me to come out here and talk to you.”

“Your mom asked you to talk to me?” Scott asked.

“Yeah.” Allison hesitated and shook her head. “God, this is so lame. Do you know about Beacon Chills?”

Scott laughed. “You mean the game that Stiles’ dad invented.”

“Who?” Allison asked, confused.

“The sheriff? Stiles is my best friend, and the sheriff is Stiles’ dad,” Scott said. “He invented Beacon Chills. Nothing ever happens here, so he and the deputies had nothing to do. Stiles said he came up with Beacon Chills one day to give people something to do and keep them out of trouble.”

“No way!” Allison said, sounding impressed. “I had no idea. My mom never told me.”

“Your mom?” Scott asked.

“Yeah,” Allison replied. “She’s the game master for the hunters.”

Scott’s eyes went wide. “The hunters?”

Allison nodded. “Why, does that make you nervous?”

Scott smiled. “Should it.”

Allison shrugged. “Anyway, she told me to invite you to this party that’s happening on Friday.”

“Okay,” Scott said. “That is weird.”

“I know,” Allison said, sounding apologetic. “Anyway, it’s supposed to be part of the campaign that the game masters are running right now. Can you come?”

“Sure,” Scott said. “It’s a date.”

“Good,” Allison said. “Pick me up at 8:00. I’ll text you the address.”

Scott gave her a goofy smile. “’Kay”

“’Kay,” Allison said, moving towards the door. “It was nice meeting you, Scott.”

“Nice meeting you, too,” Scott replied, as she stepped outside, the door closing between them.

* * *

“Stiles!” 

“Yeah, dad!” Stiles called back from his room. 

His dad soon appeared in his doorway. “We need to talk.”

Stiles eyed his father. “So I’ve heard.”

“Look, you’ve been bugging me for years about Beacon Chills, and I’ve talked to some of the other game masters.” He crossed his arms before continuing. “I think we’ve come up with an interesting idea, but I don’t know how you’re going to feel about it.”

“Oh my God!” Stiles exclaimed. “Just tell me already! The suspense is killing me.”

The sheriff smirked. “I think I’m gonna hand you off to Deaton.”

Stiles blinked at him a few times. “What?!”

“Deaton,” the Sheriff repeated. “Alan Deaton. The Vet. Scott’s boss.”

“I know who Deaton is!” Stiles said. “What do you mean, ‘hand me off’ to him?”

“I think Alan should be your game master,” the sheriff said.

Stiles scoffed. “I didn’t even know he was a game master! I didn’t even know he played Beacon Chills! What about you? Why can’t you be my game master?”

The sheriff shrugged. “I already have too many people to keep track of. Besides, I think you’d have more fun as a magic user.”

Stiles’ look of scorn quickly changed into one of excitement. “Magic?! Wait, what do you mean?”

The sheriff chuckled. “I don’t have all of the details, and I shouldn’t have them anyway. That’s between you and your game master. Go talk to Deaton tomorrow. He’ll fill you in.”

Stiles gave the sheriff a bear hug. “Thanks dad!”

“You’re welcome,” the sheriff said, hugging him back. “I can’t wait to see you out there. This is gonna be fun.”

* * *

Scott pulled up to Allison’s house, nervous about going up to the front door. Allison spared him by coming outside before he had to.

She got into the car. “Ready to go?” she asked.  
Scott nodded. “I guess so.”

Allison smiled and they rode the short distance in silence.

When they got to the party, they quickly made their way to the backyard, where it seemed like most of the guests were. Scott hadn’t been to many house parties, and this one seemed like it was pretty much the same as the others. Still, he glanced around nervously.

“Are you okay?” Allison asked.

“What?” Scott said. “Yeah. I'm fine.”

“Oh, look! I think that’s Derek Hale.” Allison said, pointing towards a dark corner of the yard. She leaned towards him conspiratorially and whispered, “Isn’t he a part of your pack?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “I'll be right back.”

Allison smiled and waved him off.

“Hey, Derek,” Scott said, walking up to where he was standing in the shadow of some bushes.

Derek took a drink of his beer. “Hey, Scott. Fun party, huh?”

Scott couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic.

“Are you the reason Allison invited me here?” Scott asked.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My Uncle Peter just told me to come to this party. He didn’t say why.”

“Oh,” replied Scott, clearly confused. “So, when does the game start?”

“Game?” Derek asked.

“You know, the game,” Scott said. “Beacon Chills.”

Derek gave him a knowing grin. “It’s already started.”

“I don’t understand,” Scott said.

“Beacon Chills is more than a game,” Derek replied. “It’s a lifestyle. It’s not like other live action role-play. Most of it happens out in the real world, while you’re living your life. It’s like a layer’s been added on top of everything you do. You’re still Scott McCall, high school teenager, but you’re also Scott McCall, the werewolf, and sometimes, you won’t know if the people you’re interacting with are part of the LARP or not.” He grinned. “That’s what makes the game so much fun.”

He pointed across the pool at Allison, who was standing watching them talk. “For example, take this girl that you came here with.” 

She gave Scott a mischievous grin and waved.

Derek laughed. “I know for a fact that her family hunts werewolves. And yet, you showed up at this party together.” He turned to Scott, his face serious. “Why did she come here with you? What is she planning to do with you? Is she using you to find the rest of your pack? You have to be careful, Scott. If you die in this game, you don’t get to come back.” He shrugged. “Well, I guess that’s not a hundred percent true. People actually come back to life all the time. The game masters try to keep that kind of thing under control, though. If people can come back to life whenever they want, then they won’t take the game seriously anymore.”

“What have I gotten myself into?” Scott asked, a look of concern on his face.

Derek laughed again and patted him on the back. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s a game. It’s supposed to be fun. It will be fun. I promise.”

“If you say so,” Scott replied, glumly.

“I do say so,” Derek said. His cell phone buzzed. “Hold on a second, I have to get this.”

He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and read a text message. “It’s my Uncle Peter. He said we have to go to the preserve.”

“What? Now?” Scott asked. “What about Allison?”

“She’ll understand,” Derek said, grabbing Scott’s sleeve. “Come on, we have to go.”

* * *

“What’s going on? Why are we out here?” Scott asked, following Derek into the preserve.

“It’s your first full moon as a werewolf,” Derek said. “So, you’ve lost control and you’re running around naked in the woods.”

“I’m not gonna run around naked!” Scott exclaimed.

“You’re not gonna actually run around naked,” Derek said. “We’re just gonna tell people that you did.”

“Uh, okay, I guess. Why?” Scott asked.

“Until you learn to control yourself, you’re gonna do random crazy things,” Derek explained. “Run around naked in the woods, abandon your date at a party…”

“I didn’t abandon her!” Scott argued. “You made me leave!”

“Just go with it, okay,” Derek said. “It’s all part of the LARP. Allison’s mom is a game master, remember? Everyone’s in on it, including Allison.”

Scott sighed. “This is gonna take a while to get used to.”

“You’ll be fine,” Derek said. “Hold on a sec. Did you hear that?”

Scott stood still. “I don’t hear anything,” he whispered.

They heard a twig snap, and Derek help up his hand. They heard footsteps now, crunching through the leaves on the ground. Derek looked worried.

“Is this part of the game?” Scott asked. 

“Shh, quiet!” Derek said. 

Three men with crossbows stepped in front of them. The one in the center aimed at Scott, pulled the trigger, and sent a giant rubber band flying into Scott’s shoulder. 

“Ouch!” Scott yelped. 

“Run!” Derek yelled, as he took off into the trees.

Scott ran after him. After a few minutes, they stopped in the shadow of a large oak.

“Who were they?” Scott asked, breathing hard. He was surprised he didn’t need his inhaler.

“Hunters,” Derek said. “The kind that have been hunting us for centuries.”

“Hunting us with rubber bands?” Scott asked.

“That wasn’t a rubber band,” Derek said. “That was a bolt from a crossbow.”

“Right,” Scott said. “Okay, fine. Now what?”

“I think we lost them,” Derek said. “Now, I take you home.”

Scott looked around at the dark forest. He was out of breath, there were strange men chasing him, and he still had homework to do. “I don’t know if I want to play this game anymore,” Scott said.

Derek sighed. “Is it really so bad, Scott? Yesterday, you were just a normal teenager, living a normal teenage life, doing normal teenage things. Now, you’re a werewolf, part of a world that most people don’t even know about. You’re a part of something, something bigger than yourself. Most people would kill for that.” 

“I just don't know if this game is for me,” Scott said, still breathing hard and shaking his head. “I mean, I think it’s cool and all, but I don’t know. I just never pictured myself doing these kinds of things. It always seemed more like a Stiles thing to do.”

“The more you do it, the more you’ll get used to it,” Derek said. “Really, it just takes time. And, it’s worth it. I know you might not believe me when I say this, but playing this game has been one of the most fulfilling things I’ve ever done. This game will help you grow in ways you could never imagine. You’ll look back on all of this and you’ll remember it as one of the best parts of your life. But, you won’t get to experience any of that if you don’t give it a shot. It might be tough a first, but I’m here to help you. We’re part of the same pack, so you and me, Scott, we're brothers now.”

Scott thought about it for a bit, then sighed and nodded. “Fine, I’ll try it. But, if it get’s too weird, I’m not gonna do it anymore.”

“Deal,” Derek said, giving Scott’s shoulder a squeeze. “You won’t regret this. I promise.” 

* * *

“So what happened? You left me stranded at the party,” Allison said, as she walked past Scott at school the next day.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Scott said, following after her. “I'm really sorry. But, Derek said you were in on all of that.” 

Allison stopped and turned to face him. She crossed her arms. “I didn’t know anything actually, but I figured it had something to do with the game. It doesn’t matter,” she said with a smirk. “My character doesn’t know about any of that stuff and she’s still mad at you. You owe me an explanation.” 

“Okay,” Scott said, trying to come up with something on the fly. “Can you just find it in your heart to trust me on this one?”

Allison smiled. “Am I gonna regret this?”

“Probably,” Scott said. “So is that a yes on a second chance?” 

Allison nodded. “Definitely yes.”

They heard a car horn, and turned to see a man stepping out of an SUV.

“That's my dad,” Allison said. “I better go.”

The man waved, and Scott waved back. It was the man who had shot at him with the crossbow.


End file.
